All to Chance
by whoaitspurple
Summary: tumblr AU Pezberry: Rachel finds out that she's pregnant and subsequently gets kicked out of her home. She manages to find an apartment and starts to prepare herself for raising her child alone...I put my own spin on it but the tumblr idea is still very much there. Thanks to whoever prompted this!
1. Chapter 1

**AU Pezberry:** **_Rachel finds out that she's pregnant and subsequently gets kicked out of her home. She manages to find an apartment and starts to prepare herself for raising her child alone. Santana lives in the apartment across the hall and for the first couple of weeks, they just greet each other in passing. That changes the day Santana comes home to find a distraught Rachel, locked out of her apartment and defeated. Santana invites her in and they talk for what seems like hours. Afterwards, Santana is determined to get to know the girl across the hall and asks her out on a date. And another. And another. Over time, Rachel begins to show and is forced to reveal her pregnancy._**

Not only is it a Monday morning; but it's a Monday morning when Santana, _of course_, sleeps through her alarm and stubs her toe on her desk and then realizes she's got about 10 mins to get to work on time.

"Fuck!" She breathes out, throws on her coat and snatches her apron on the way out the door. She decides to shoot a quick text out to Gunther letting him know she's on her way and to please, please, please not fire her when she notices the one elevator of her shitty building is reserved and not only is she already late, but now she has to run down 7 flights of fucking stairs.

_Who the fuck moves in on a Monday morning?_

So now, not only is it a Monday morning, but she's late for work, she's pretty sure her toe is fractured and now she has to worry about a new neighbor on her floor. She makes a mental note to find out who the new tenant is; not because she's nosy, but she vaguely remembers the weird couple who lived next door and had crazy wild sex in the middle of the afternoon and had a crazy, loud dog who scratches at the wall in the middle of the night. Basically, she's had enough of annoying neighbors and if she has to deal with another one, she'll almost be tempted to take Mike's offer as his new roommate because the dude decided to move into a stupid, expensive apartment on the Lower East Side on his own. But she likes living on her own; she can walk around naked, and she never has to worry about anyone eating her cereal. Growing up is awesome for the most part.

She's digging through her purse looking for her metropass when she finally reaches the first floor and—

"Whoa! Watch it!" Santana's holding her arms out to catch whatever content could've fallen out of the big ginormous box that's being held by some tiny human in front of her.

A girl with long, wavy brown hair, who's not really that much shorter than Santana, cranes her neck and looks up from behind the box, "Ugh, I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you." She says, moving to the right at the exact same time that Santana's moves to her left and they do this weird step away dance thing for a second until Santana groans frustratingly and finally angles her body to the side so the other girl can walk by.

"Sorry." The girl says again, and Santana mumbles an "it's okay" as she kind of does a double take at the girl walking away from her and she kind of gawks at the long, tanned legs (how can such a short girl even have that much leg?!) for a second before shaking her head and checks the time on her phone again before cursing the world again for making her late.

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Three years ago, if you told her that she would be living in New York, working at a Broadway themed diner, playing into the stereotype of a hopeful actress and scraping by with tips so she can pay for headshots and go to auditions and—

Okay, that's a little bit of a lie. She's one of the lucky ones whose parents were totally supportive and actually cuts her a small check from her supposed college fund every other week. The thing was, Santana's plans three years ago included a full ride cheerleading scholarship to Kentucky, get through her undergrad and get her Masters in Law; she did end up being offered the full ride to the University of Kentucky at the end of her senior year. But then this stupid little glee club that Quinn made her join changed every aspect of her life and she realized how much she actually really loves performing and against her parents' better judgment, she spent an entire Friday night making a PowerPoint on why she should go to New York and chase her dreams to become the kick ass star she truly is.

"Santana!"

The brunette looks up from refilling salt shakers and sees Gunther at the other side of the bar, "Where's your head at? Table 4 still hasn't even been greeted yet." He says frustratingly, nudging his head towards the other side of the diner.

"My bad." She mumbles out, wiping her hands on her apron and making her way to table 4. She pulls out her notepad and pen and lets out a sigh, "Can I start you off with something to drink-

"Hey, it's you."

The tiny human with the nice legs puts down the menu in front of her and Santana notices her face for the first time and her mind goes blank for a second at this girl's smile because _damn._

Santana blinks and mentally smacks herself for gawking, "It's me." She mutters out, and rolls her eyes at herself, "You're the new girl in my building?"

The girl giggles, fucking _giggles_ at her and nods, "Rachel." She holds out her hand politely and Santana takes another second and decides she may as well play along. She can feel Gunther's stare from the bar behind her and she decides she can't really piss him off any more than she already has.

"Santana." She says, taking Rachel's hand.

Rachel nods again, the smile is still not leaving her face, and they stare at each other for a moment until Santana finally clears her throat and glances at the menu again, "So can I get you a coffee or something?" she asks, holding the pen against her notepad.

Rachel nods for a second and then, "Actually, just some water, please." She says softly, her smile slightly faltering, "And I guess just an order of your oatmeal and fruit."

Santana raises an eyebrow but writes down the order anyway, "You sure?" She asks; she may as well be friendly since they're like neighbors or whatever…and it helps that this girl is both cute _and _hot and that's too much of her weakness to ignore. "I would've thought you would be starving after moving all morning." Santana looks up again flashing the girl a smile, "Our French toast is actually pretty dope here."

Rachel's smile is back as she shrugs her shoulders, "Okay, sold." She says easily, handing Santana the menu, "Can I get that to go, though? I didn't realize the time and I'm supposed to meet my parents back at the apartment."

Santana's almost disappointed that the girl's not staying, but then she remembers she lives right across the hall now so…

"No worries," she replies, taking the menu from Rachel, "It'll be out in a second."

Santana walks away and notices Kurt leaning against the bar, arms folded across his chest, "Well, she's cute." He says, still looking over at Rachel's booth, "Didn't think she would be your type though, Satan."

Santana furrows her eyebrows and types the order into the system, "She's my new neighbor." She says, "And how do you know what my type is, Lady Lips?"

Chances are he probably does. Kurt moved to New York with Santana once they graduated high school. The hilarious thing is; they hated each other back then. And then sophomore year came along and Santana joined Glee where they were forced to get along and Lady Face ended up becoming one of her best friends. Kurt got accepted into NYADA and the two moved in together for a year until Kurt's boyfriend Blaine moved to the city and the two decided it was more convenient for Kurt to be closer to school and obviously, closer to Blaine as well.

Kurt smiles, "Well you usually go for blondes. Let's see…" he says easily, holding out his hands and counting fingers, "Brittany, Quinn, Dani—

"Quinn was from lack of better judgment and too many martinis," Santana rolls her eyes, "And Dani has blue hair now."

"She was blonde when you met her and when you first started dating." Kurt mutters, helping Santana with the last of the salt shakers, "Anyway, my gaydar is sensing some gay from your new neighbor," he says and that definitely got Santana's attention, "And you know my gaydar is always on point. So I say go for it."

The cook rings the bell indicating Rachel's French toast is ready so Santana gets up, "You think?" She asks absentmindedly, and then shakes her head realizing how pathetic she sounds right now. It's only been 5 months since her and Dani broke up; not that it was really that serious anyway, but still. She takes the container of food, idling by where Kurt was sitting and looking at the back of Rachel's head sitting in the booth.

"It's time you get your lesbian groove back, Santana." Kurt says, giving her a smack on the ass and pushing her towards the booth.

Santana glares at her friend over her shoulder as she walks away. She gets to Rachel's booth and puts down the container along with a glass of water, "French toast and some H2O on the rocks." _Jesus fuck, Santana, can you be anymore lame right now?_

Rachel lets out a laugh and takes a sip of the water in front of her, "Well thank you, Santana." She says before letting herself out of the booth, "I guess I'll see you around then?" The girl sounds pretty hopeful, so Santana takes that as a good sign.

"I'll see ya." Santana says and she smiles before Rachel starts walking towards the door. _Fuck it,_ "Wait, Rachel." The shorter girl turns around and looks at Santana expectedly, "If you like, need anything," she's fumbling through her words and she wants Kurt to literally throw something at the back of her head right now to get her back on track, "I mean, I know moving sucks so, if you need help, I'm just across the hall from you." She finally finishes.

Rachel flashes another smile, "I might take you up on that offer." She says before nodding and then waves goodbye to Santana before walking out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been a full week of diner shifts and auditions and the novelty of auditioning for lame ass commercials and off, off Broadway back up roles only lasts so long, so when Kurt asked her to go to Call Backs once her night shift was over that Saturday night, Santana was already out the door pulling at Kurt's arm because after the week she had? The thirst for tequila and vodka was just overwhelming at that point.

There was a lot of Amy Winehouse covers, and she didn't even say no when Kurt asked her to sing Out Tonight with him. They're at Call Backs enough times a week that Jack, the bartender, knows them all by name and even though Santana's pressed enough times that she's just not into penis, Jack will constantly ogle and give her free drinks just so she can keep coming to the bar to talk to him. Whatever, a free drink is a free drink.

She was about to get up to get another shot of tequila when Kurt puts his hand on her arm and shakes his head, "No, Santana." He blurts out, "Blaine will kill me if I stumble into the apartment wasted again."

Santana holds up the back of her hand against her mouth and giggles, so yeah she's pretty fucking tanked at this point. "Lady, come on." She whines, hiccupping as she speaks, "I had such a long week and _you_ invited _me_ out, remember?"

Kurt shakes his head again and takes Santana's coat before slinging the girl's arm around his shoulders, "Next weekend, okay? It's almost 1am and I have the morning shift tomorrow."

The brunette makes a noise that she, herself, doesn't even know what the hell it was so she just lets Kurt drag her out of the bar and into a cab, shooting out her address to the driver and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She's pretty sure she dozed off 'cause before she knows it, the cab is stopped in front of her building and she throws the driver a few bills and makes her way into the building and into the elevator. The door finally opens to the seventh floor and she's digging into her purse to look for her keys when she hears quiet sniffling down the hall. She turns the corner and notices Rachel sitting against the door of her apartment, her head buried in her own arms.

"Rachel?"

The girl looks up, her face red and streaked with tears, "There you are." She says softly, uncrossing her arms and leans the back of her head against the door.

Santana makes a face and tries her hardest to not look like a drunken idiot in front of this girl, "Were you waiting for me?" She asks, slightly confused…she's drunk but she would've remembered if a girl was waiting for her. But then she hasn't even seen Rachel since that first time at the diner; not that she was really expecting any different, she barely had anytime to be at home this week anyway.

Rachel shakes her head and makes this small whimpering noise and Santana quickly rushes to the girl's side, pulling her into her arms. She doesn't even know who this girl is, or what the hell is going on, but fuck, there are tears and sobbing and Santana's drunk enough that her brain can barely form questions to ask.

So she just goes with, "What happened?"

Rachel wipes her face along her sleeve and lets out a small sigh, "I locked myself out," she manages, "And the super is out of town until tomorrow, and I don't know anyone else in the city, and you haven't been home all night." She cries out, dropping her head into her hands again.

"Okay, okay," Santana whispers soothingly, holding the shorter girl in her arms, "let's go in my apartment, you can stay there tonight."

Rachel looks up again, and even with a red, puffy face, Santana can't help but gaze at her brown eyes. "Really?" she blurts out, "But you don't even know me." She says in this small voice.

Santana gets up and lets out a sigh, "Well, what do you want me to say?" She mutters out, holding out her hand for Rachel to take, "You can either stay in this hallway all night and look like a homeless person, or you can go into my perfectly fine apartment and we can deal with this in the morning." This is partly the alcohol talking but she doesn't really care at this point because the tequila effect is totally at its peak now and all she wants to do is dig into her jar of peanut butter and curl up on her couch.

Rachel can't seem to find an argument for that so she takes the offered hand and pulls herself up, "Okay, then." Santana nods and forces a smile, "I promise, I'm not like a psycho axe murderer or anything."

The other girl looks at the Latina for a second and makes a face, "Are you drunk?" She asks.

Santana's smile fades, "Maybe." She says, shrugging her shoulders, "It's a Saturday night." She walks the foot and a half to her own door and unlocks it, "Make yourself at home."

She drops her keys into the bowl by the door and shrugs her coat off, before taking Rachel's and hanging it in the closet.

The shorter girl follows Santana into the apartment and looks around, "I didn't expect your place to look like this." She says, pausing at the mantel above the fireplace and then looking at Santana who's making a face, "It's just very Manhattan." Rachel explains, like that's supposed to make more sense than her last comment, "I figured you as more Brooklyn."

The Latina lets out a laugh and is silently cursing the double shots Jack was pouring her, "I had a gay roommate and he decorated everything." She says easily, pulling out a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard in the kitchen, "I just kept everything as is when he moved out."

Rachel nods and sits down on the black leather couch, Santana following soon after.

"So, you were like, really upset out there." Santana says, and she immediately wants to kick herself for sounding so insensitive, "I mean, I just…sorry—

Rachel shakes her head, "It's just been a long week." She sighs, "Moving was kind of a last minute deal."

Santana nods, waiting for the girl to go on and when she doesn't Santana lets out a sigh and stretches along the couch, "You're right, this shit's too heavy for a Saturday night," She says easily, "What do you like to do for fun, Rachel?"

Santana smiles again when she hears Rachel's laugh, "Well," the girl takes the spoon from Santana and dips it into the jar herself, "Broadway is my life." She says before putting the spoon into her mouth. Santana kind of stares for a second and tries to remember that she's literally only had two conversations with this girl, "And I wish I could still pursue it, but—

"Why can't you?" Santana asks, "You're in the best city for dreaming that big."

Rachel shrugs, "Things change." She mutters softly, "I have to think of a different plan."

Santana props her elbow along the back of the couch and yawns, "I had a different plan," She replies, pushing her hair off her shoulders, "And then I realized I'm meant for something much bigger." Rachel has this small smile when she says that and Santana lets out a sigh, "I want my name in lights too, Rachel. I don't see why you'd wanna give up on that dream."

Rachel looks down at her lap for a second and then looks back up at Santana through those long lashes and she doesn't know if it's the alcohol but this girl is seriously too beautiful for her own good, "Do you want some water?" Santana asks, her throat suddenly feeling dry.

"I should be asking you that." Rachel laughs and Santana smiles before getting up to get two glasses from the kitchen and filling it up under that tap.

Santana doesn't even realize what time it is when she notices Rachel yawn and when she looks at her phone, she realizes they've been talking for hours. She learned that Rachel was born and raised in the Bronx, has two gay dads and has been singing since she learned how to speak. She was in her high school show choir and is actually a NYADA student now. She's in her second year, while Kurt is in his third which is probably why he didn't recognize her at the diner.

Santana in turn, told her about Glee club, about her time as a Cheerio and how she was actually supposed to be in the University of Kentucky instead of living in New York. They talked Broadway musicals, and the fact that Rachel's playlist consisted of the weirdest mix of music ever, from Patti LuPone, to Justin Timberlake; the original Wicked soundtrack along with all of Biggie's albums, "Come on, how can I not like him? New Yorkers stick together, okay?" she reasons.

Rachel yawns again and Santana takes that as a cue to call it a night, "Listen, you can take the bed," she says, "I can sleep on the couch—

"Don't be silly, this is your apartment." Rachel replies, tucking her knees into her chest, "I'm not gonna take your bed."

Santana gets up and walks over to the closet to grab blankets and a pillow, "This couch is shit to sleep on," She mutters, "You'll thank me in the morning."

Rachel laughs, "I'll already be thanking you in the morning by taking you out to breakfast, "She says easily, "For letting me stay, when you barely even know who I am."

"Actually, I knew absolutely nothing about you." Santana says in a matter-of-fact tone, raising her eyebrow at the girl with a smile.

Rachel nods, "True."

"But now that I have more of an idea who you are," Santana states, "I have a king size bed," _Did I seriously just offer my bed? While I'm in it?_ "We won't even be close to each other," She says quickly, trying to sound nonchalant, "Unless you sleep like a crazy person, then maybe you should take the couch."

Rachel looks unsure for a second and then looks at Santana shyly, "Well, if you're sure that's okay…"

Santana rolls her eyes, "Let's go, Gidget." She says jokingly, "I'm exhausted and still kind of drunk." She's off the couch now and walking towards her bedroom as Rachel follows.

The two take turns getting ready for bed, Santana letting Rachel borrow a pair of pajamas and a Cheerios sweater to sleep in.

"Santana," Rachel says softly and the Latina hums in response, curling into her pillow, "Thank you, again."

Santana opens her eyes and manages to roll over to face Rachel, two pillows in between them, "Don't even worry about it, Rach." She says easily with a smile, "But I will be holding you to breakfast in the morning."

Even in the dark, Santana notices Rachel's bright smile and she closes her eyes again, falling asleep quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana flutters her eyes open when she hears the bathroom door click to a close and notices Rachel already dressed in the clothes she had on the night before. She stretches out and tries to ignore the pounding in her brain.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Rachel says softly sitting at the edge of the bed.

Santana yawns and shakes her head, "Did you sleep okay?" She asks, squinting her eyes. This headache is pretty legit and trying to be pleasant during a hangover is a skill she wasn't planning on practicing on a Sunday morning but then that stupid smile Rachel has is way too contagious to ignore.

The shorter girl nods, "I'm just always used to waking up early." She says as Santana pushes the blanket off her and struggles to make her way out of bed, "You don't have to get up, breakfast can wait."

Santana smiles, her eyes still squinted from the small hammer pounding at her skull, "Breakfast is a must right now," she mutters making her way to the bathroom, "And anyway, I vaguely remember you talking about your morning routine last night, and who am I to break that?"

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"You can pick up, I don't mind." Santana says, taking a sip of her iced coffee. They've been at breakfast for almost an hour and the name Brody has been flashing on Rachel's phone screen. Santana's trying really hard not to be a little bit jealous and is silently cursing Kurt for giving her hope that Rachel wasn't completely straight but then the shorter girl shakes her head and shoves her phone into her purse before taking another bite of her pancakes, "Is that the boyfriend?" Santana asks, trying to sound as casual as possible and not at all jealous.

"Ex." Rachel mutters out, "If I can even call him that."

Santana makes a face and gestures with her hand for her to elaborate, "He goes to my school, and we hooked up a few times; I actually started to really like him and of course, I end up finding out that he's a actually a really big dirt bag who sleeps with people for money and—

"Hold up," Santana says, leaning over the table a little bit, "Your boyfriend is a gigolo?"

"_Ex-boyfriend."_ Rachel corrects, "Anyway, this was just a big validation that I should have just stuck with girls." She says easily with a sigh.

Santana's eyes widen a bit and clears her throat, trying to act nonchalant and not at all fucking ecstatic because, _yes_.

Rachel takes a sip of her water before looking back up at Santana, "What about you?" she asks softly, "Anyone special?"

Santana shakes her head, "We broke up a few months ago." She mutters, "Wasn't that serious though; she dipped when she found a new gig down in San Diego."

Rachel nods slowly, picking at her food with her fork. The weird thing is, Santana knows she doesn't usually do this. She'll go out on dates once in a while, but after Brittany— as much as she doesn't want to admit it, Dani was just a really great distraction from her high school sweet heart. She hasn't been out with anyone else after Dani; Kurt tries to encourage it and Mike has even tried taking her out and being her wingman by subtly trying to guess the lesbian in whatever bar they're at but Santana just knocks it down, not wanting to be bothered with it.

So the fact that she's at breakfast with this random girl, who lives across the hall and has already slept in her bed sans getting any mack on? Yeah, she's trying to wrap her head around that.

"Hey, you said that you grew up in the Bronx right?" Santana asks, vaguely remembering their conversation last night, "And you go to NYADA?" Rachel nods and Santana furrows her eyebrows, "I don't mean to pry," Santana says, "Well actually, I do, but I'm curious, you said you didn't know anyone else in the city, so what's up with that?"

Rachel lets out a sigh, "I guess it's more that I don't _have_ anyone else in the city that…it's complicated…"

"I've got time." Santana says simply, leaning back against her chair. The girl's slept in her bed, she has the right to know some things…and it's just not in her nature to feel comfortable in the dark. She's a curious person, okay?

Rachel's quiet for a second, and Santana can see that the girl is trying to find the right words to start with, and she feels this tiny pang of guilt, "Are you doing anything today?" She asks suddenly, making Rachel snap out of her thoughts.

The smaller girl shakes her head and Santana crosses her arms on top of the table, "I have a killer movie collection complete with Westside Story, Funny Girl and Rent, among others," She says with a smile, "What do you say?"

Rachel gives her this really warm smile that makes her think, not like Brittany, and definitely not like Quinn or Dani. But then she decides to stop comparing because Rachel seems to be in a league of her own, as far as Santana can tell.

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Rachel knows she's way in above her head now. Moving out was a split second decision because she couldn't stand to look at her dads and know that she may have just messed up her chances at what the three of them have planned and worked on together since she was three years old. She got herself pregnant with a guy who's been lying about what his job was and not only is she disgusted by his actions, but she's angry at herself for being so blind sighted.

She hasn't told anyone about the pregnancy; not Brody and not her parents. As far as her dads know, she wanted to move to her own place to create her own independence and they've talked about it enough in the last year that they barely even questioned it. She's not avoiding the issue, she knows fully well what repercussions she'll have to face in the very near future, but she needs to figure it out on her own. She almost feels awful for not telling Brody about the pregnancy, but she's still too pissed off to even answer his phone calls, never mind let him know that she's carrying his baby. Surprisingly, she's only cried once, and that was on her own doorstep the night before and all she was upset about was that she was locked out and their stupid superintendent was out of town. But she didn't cry when she found those text messages on Brody's phone, she barely had any emotions when she saw that the pregnancy test was positive; and when the doctor confirmed that she was pregnant, she nodded her head, grabbed her stuff and left the doctor's office, not even shedding a tear.

And now she's spending an entire Sunday at this girl's apartment, who she barely knows, and for some odd reason, Rachel seems to be ignoring all of her usual protocols with strangers and she hasn't even felt uneasy about it once. Santana has been so incredibly kind to her and even after sobbing and being completely hormonal the night before, the other girl hasn't pressed or pushed Rachel to answer anything she wasn't comfortable with.

They've spent the day on Santana's couch, laughing and watching musicals and talking about Santana's time in the city, how she decided New York was more of her speed as opposed to cheerleading in Kentucky. Rachel spoke about NYADA, why she became a vegetarian (much to Santana's dismay, it seemed) and the two even bonded over their own high school show choir experience.

The main thing is, Rachel's never met anyone like Santana before. She can tell that the girl puts up a tough exterior, but the way she talks about performing with such passion that she's never noticed from anyone she's known, but herself; Rachel can't seem to distance away from that. She spent one night with the other girl, and now almost an entire day, but it feels so much more than that. And yes, she knows how cheesy and completely absurd that sounds, but—

"I just know that I'm meant for something bigger." Santana says as the two girls laze on the couch, Rent playing in the background, "And I may not have it all figured out, but I know in my gut that this is where I'm supposed to be."

Rachel nods in understanding, and she wants to say that she knows; she knows because that's always been her own guiding light, the belief that she's meant for something special, that she, herself, is meant to _be_ special. But now, she's not so sure. Being with a baby in the city, trying to be a star wasn't exactly a part of her plan.

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of wine?" Santana asks, reaching over to the coffee table to grab the bottle, "I mean, it's like a 6 dollar bottle so it tastes pretty shitty, but it does the job just fine."

Rachel shakes her head, "I'm okay, thank you." She says politely, noticing Santana rolling her eyes.

"So let me get this straight, " the taller girl says before taking a sip of her wine and then turning her body to face Rachel, "You don't drink coffee, you don't even want wine." Santana snorts jokingly, "I would actually end up murdering somebody."

Rachel forces a laugh and shifts on the couch and faces the TV again, trying to hide her discomfort. She can feel Santana looking at her and she can tell the girl is trying to piece this puzzle together. Rachel sucks at lying, she's awful at secrets and hiding anything at all, which was why she needed to get out of her parents' place.

"Wait a second." Santana says finally, shifting closer to Rachel, "Rach, are you…are you pregnant?"

Rachel stays quiet for a second, trying to calm her nerves but her emotions have been on constant overdrive lately that she buries her face in her hands before she could even stop herself.

Santana immediately moves to the smaller girl's side, pulling her into her embrace, "Shhh, it's okay." She whispers soothingly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—

Rachel shakes her head a few times and tries to breathe in deeply, "It's okay." She chokes out, "I just…I'm still trying to figure it all out."

Santana nods, her arm still wrapped around Rachel's shoulders. They stay like that for a few minutes, Santana letting Rachel breathe and calm down.

"Look, I know that we just met and you have no reason to believe anything that I say," The taller girl says softly, "But, you don't have to figure this out on your own." She's not really sure where this is coming from, but Rachel is crying in her arms and Santana feels the sudden need to make her feel better, "You can talk to me, and…I don't know, you just don't have to feel alone, okay?"

Rachel's crying again and Santana just holds her tighter and then Rachel buries her face into Santana's neck, "I'm pregnant." She sobs, and she realizes that's the first time she's ever said it out loud since she's found out and she always figured that if she ever said it, that it would be real, but right now, it still feels so bizarre that all she can do is hold on to Santana and cry.


End file.
